Chapter 18
Eighteen
Another night, another front row. Not that I was complaining. I stood in front of my chair, nerves coursing through me, this time without the benefit of having Roberta or Jamie or any of my other friends there. My mother had even hitched a ride back with Nikolai, which I found very weird, but I was grateful that he had been able to help. Everyone was gone back to Georgia, save for Benny and Lee, but both of them were backstage, readying for the show. We planned to head back ourselves first thing in the morning, but I wished I had someone here to hang out with, to help keep me calm.
Phillip and Lee had arranged for beefed-up security all over the venue, and with Shank and Colt gone, there was nobody left who had the potential to harm us in any major way. But I still felt very exposed and very anxious for the show.
In the truck on the way to the venue, I’d peeked at Phillip’s profile as he drove, noting his mouth was set in a serious line, knowing he felt the same way. Not only did he also have reason to be nervous about security, but I knew he was nervous about the show too. Several big music outlets planned to attend tonight, and the band’s performance would be written about and reviewed. The success of tonight’s show would determine just how well the big tour would go. They were planning to announce it tonight, after the encore.
As I’d peeked at Phillip, seeing how tensely he was gripping the steering wheel, a song from my teen years had come on the radio. “Huh,” I’d said, turning up the dial as the familiar guitar of Live’s “Lightning Crashes” came through the speakers. “I haven’t heard this in years.”
“I don’t remember this song,” Phillip had said, glancing over at me. “I recognize the band, though. When did this come out?”
“Um…’94?” I said. “Maybe early ’95? It was a huge hit. Everybody got so sick of it that summer.” I realized, not wanting to say it out loud, that the song had been released only a few short months after Phillip’s death. I remembered seeing the video on MTV around the same time we were still getting updates on the band and how they were doing in Phillip’s absence.
“It’s pretty,” Phillip said, listening. “Sad. But hopeful at the same time.”
“It’s not even one of their best, really,” I’d countered, then listened in silence for a few moments as Ed Kowalczyk’s searing vocals became louder and more insistent. Then, to my horror, I realized I was crying. I furiously wiped at the tears on my cheeks, hoping Phillip hadn’t noticed.
“What’s wrong?” Phillip asked in alarm, looking over at me. “Do I need to pull over?”
“No, no,” I’d insisted, still wiping away the flood of tears that had started so unexpectedly. “I think I must be about to get my period or something. I don’t know what came over me. It was like…I was listening to the song and just remembering what it was like back then, realizing that like…what feels like a couple of years ago was actually twenty years ago. And I just… I don’t know. The song just hit me in my feels, I guess,” I said, horribly embarrassed.
“Nostalgia?” Phillip said, putting a hand on my knee. “It hits you funny sometimes, huh.”
“I guess so,” I’d answered, still embarrassed that he’d seen me react that way. “It isn’t like I loved this song or anything. I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s okay, Stormy,” Phillip said, his hand still on my knee, his voice soft and full of understanding. “It’s okay.”
I shook my head, taking a long sip of my Sprite. I hadn’t felt like drinking tonight; I was too keyed up. What had caused me to break into tears like that? Phillip must have thought I was losing my marbles.
Now, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around, brightening as I saw the petite, black-haired girl standing there behind the barrier, hula hoop balanced over her shoulder. “Beth!” I leaned forward to give her a hug, realizing the barrier made that impossible, then gestured for her to jump over. “Join me!”
“I can’t stay,” she said, returning my hug with a beaming smile. “The guys asked me to hoop for part of their set; can you believe that?”
I smiled back at her. After introducing her to everyone the night of the last show, Benny had suggested they have Beth hoop during some of the band’s more energetic songs. I’d been pleased when Phillip, Jason, and Ollie had agreed readily. We owed her a debt of gratitude, after all. Her hooping to distract everyone while I’d confronted Shank and Colt had likely saved a lot of lives and kept a stampede from happening when everything went down. Besides, she just looked damn cool up there, and not many sludge metal bands could say they had their own hooper. “I can’t wait to see you! Do you want to come sit with me when your part is over?”
“Sure!” She pushed her black bob behind her ears. “They asked me to go on tour. Isn’t that wild?”
“I’ll be there too!” I said, grinning. “I’m going to do a working blog about the tour. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got and write all about it!”
“Is Nikolai coming with you guys?” Beth asked innocently, and I grinned. I hadn’t realized she’d even said two words to him when they’d met the other night, but evidently, an impression had been made.
“No, he went back to Georgia yesterday,” I said, her face falling. I added, “But you know, Nikolai is actually my brother.”
“I didn’t know that,” Beth said, brightening. “So he’ll be at more shows in the future, I assume.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” I winked at her. I could tell she and I were going to become fast friends. She had a very open, airy energy, despite her all-black ensemble and heavy dark makeup, that I liked very much.
“I like your energy too,” she said, and my eyes widened.
“Did you …”
“I tried to hint at it the other night,” Beth said, leaning forward conspiratorially, her hoop pulsing with bright purple light. “But there was a lot going on. I don’t think you picked up on it.”
“Picked up on …”
“I can tell you have powers,” she said casually, pushing her hair behind her ears again. “I do too.”
I gaped at her for a moment, her hula hoop pulsing, then in a flash, she was blowing me a kiss and scrambling over the barricade toward the backstage. “See you after! Wish me luck!”
“Good luck!” I managed to squeak, but I was dumbfounded. How many of us were there? And how was it they seemed to find me so easily? I was still standing there, shellshocked, trying to figure it all out as the familiar, razor-edge tone of Phillip’s bass came crashing around my ears. I was so lost in thought I almost missed him swagger out onto the stage, decked out in a slim-fitting black suit and crimson-colored tie, his shiny black shoes glinting under the heavy stage lights.
He slid his hand down the bass, looking straight at the front row through heavily-lined eyes, his mouth pursing into that familiar, sexy smile that I knew so well. Jason began to strum his guitar, and I stopped, surprised, as Phillip’s deep, melodic voice began singing the opening lines of “Lightning Crashes.” I met his eyes, and he blew me a kiss between verses. And then I forgot everything else.
Sweat ran down Phillip’s face in rivulets, his black hair soaked and sticking straight up, his forehead and cheeks red and clammy with exertion. He looked like he’d just run a marathon or possibly a leg of the Tour de France. Every single string had been ripped out of his bass, and having played that thing and felt how strong and thick those strings were, I knew that was no small feat. His heavy black eyeliner was pooled under his eyes, giving him an accidental smoky-eye that made me want to rip his face off, in a good way.
The entire concert had gone off without a hitch. No hidden bad guys intent on doing us harm, no interruptions, the guy’s entire set had been incredible, Beth’s hooping performance had gone over well —somebody had already shared a clip of her in action on social media, and it was going viral—and they’d announced their big comeback tour right at the end to loud, raucous applause. There had been three encores, and the crowd was demanding a fourth when Phillip said goodnight for a final time. There were still people milling about in the front of the venue, hoping to catch a glimpse of the band and get an autograph.
“Good show?” I asked with a wink. He picked me up and twirled me in the air, his bass heavy and clunky between us, jamming me in the ribs, his soaking-wet shirt transferring half his sweat onto my gauzy black blouse. But I didn’t care. I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck, happily receiving the sloppy, passionate kiss that landed somewhere near the vicinity of my mouth.
“Hell of a good show,” he said with a huge grin, sitting me down, wiping at his sweaty brow. “Shit. I got sweat all over you.”
“Like you haven’t before,” I said, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Well, that was different. And now that you put me in mind, I’ll be doing that later,” Phillip purred, giving me a onceover, eyebrows still slightly raised, the wild, lustful look in his eyes setting me on fire from my toes to the top of my head. Warmth coursed through my body, and my cheeks got hot. “So did we sound good?”
“You sounded amazing,” I said, remembering myself and the dozen or so other people backstage with us. Our animal lusts would have to wait until later. “The cover of ‘Lightning Crashes’… that was a surprise…I loved it. It was all just so good, you guys. You brought down the house. Did you hear the way they screamed for you?”
“Three encores,” Jason said with a grin, pulling his red guitar from his neck and placing it gently in the case. “And I think they would have happily gone for four if Phillip hadn’t torn all the strings out of his bass. I swear, you haven’t changed a bit. But those things are fucking expensive, dude.”
“I won’t do it every show,” Phillip said, his eyes still bright and excited. “I couldn’t resist.”
“It was so good to be back here, playing on our home turf,” Ollie said, popping the tab on a can of lemon La Croix. I suppressed a giggle; it was so weird to see these guys who, all through the nineties, had been known for doing as many drugs and drinking as heavily as possible, finish up a show with seltzer waters and fruit platters. “I never thought that could happen again. I never thought it would be possible.”
I turned to Beth, who was wiping sweat from her brow, a good deal of her heavy makeup coming off on the cloth. I was surprised to see that beneath all the white pancake makeup and thick black eyeliner and lipstick, she was fair and freckled, her skin delicate against her pretty amber eyes. “You looked amazing up there,” I said, gesturing at her hoop. “How do you get that thing’s colors to change like that? It was purple at first, then green, and then I swear at one point it was flashing all the colors of the rainbow!”
“It’s connected to me,” she said, and I paused, not understanding until she winked at me, reminding me of our conversation before the show. “Like a mood ring, but…it’s my aura.”
“Whoa,” Phillip said, putting an arm around me. “We got more than we bargained for with you, Beth!”
She smiled mysteriously and continued wiping off her makeup. I had a feeling Beth was not without drama of her own.
Phillip ripped off a black grape and held it to my lips. I dutifully let him feed me, enjoying the sweet, juicy burst as I bit into it. He popped a grape into his own mouth, his full lips closing over it just a little too slowly to be anything but deliberate. His dark eyes met mine, burning fire, and I wondered where the hell the dressing room was in this place. We were going to have to sneak away, and soon, or I might end up ripping his clothes off right here backstage in front of everyone.
“Ooooh, are those grapes?” Jason exclaimed behind me. “Can I have one?”
“Help yourself,” Phillip said, his eyes never leaving my face. We stared at each other, our gazes locked in a battle to see who could break first. The usual electricity between us was thrumming hard, and I could feel it in the air, crackling and intense.
“Oh, get a room, you two,” Benny said, popping open a Coke. “Roberta’s right; you can’t take those two anywhere. They’re always eye-fucking each other like they just met.”
“I know.” Jason laughed with a mouthful of grapes. “Phillip always did have the most success with girls. Groupies hanging off him, fighting over who got to sit in his lap, while the rest of us were just sitting backstage playing solitaire like a bunch of chumps.”
“That’s not exactly how I remember it,” Ollie argued. “I seem to recall all of you would partake in uh, groupie activities, from time to time. Except me, of course; I’m a saint.”
“Don’t believe a word of it,” Phillip said in a mock whisper, his eyes still locked on mine. “Not a word. It’s all lies and fabrications.”
“You seem to forget I was alive back then and read a magazine or two,” I retorted, a smirk crossing my face. “I’ve seen photographic evidence that what they say is true.”
“Is it true?” he asked, a devious expression on his full lips. “I can’t seem to recall.”
“No?”
“I can’t seem to recall anything before you.”
Then he was pulling me into him, his mouth crushing mine, his arms holding me so tightly around the waist that I could scarcely breathe. He was still damp with sweat, and his lips were salty as I kissed him back, not caring who saw. My man had just played the most amazing hardcore goth-metal set I’d ever heard, looking like a bona fide sex god on that stage, to hundreds of screaming fans, and then he’d come back here and grabbed me up like a wolf hungry for its prey. And I was all about it. Everyone could eat their hearts out.
“You guys are so fucking gross.”
I didn’t bother to pull away from Phillip’s embrace as I gave Jason the finger from behind my back.
“I think it’s romantic,” Beth said, and the guys laughed.
I put a hand on Phillip’s forearm, giving it a tight squeeze, pulling back slightly to look up into his eyes. His lips were still inches from mine, curling into a devious, delicious grin that I knew all too well. I gave him a look. Shall we find somewhere to be alone? I didn’t need to speak the words out loud; he knew my meaning plain.
I expected him to grab me by the shoulders and lead me down some dark corridor, and I was more than willing. My irritation at him from before the show had all but dissipated, and my plans to hash things out were gone. All I wanted was Phillip, right here, right now. But to my surprise, Phillip took a step back and pulled his arm away. He slipped his right hand into the pocket of his dark jeans and looked at me with a solemn expression, the playfulness from moments before melting away. His eyes were imploring, almost reverential.
“Stormy,” he said, his voice suddenly high pitched, wavering with something like nerves. I looked at him curiously. Phillip never got nervous. “I have something to ask you. Something I’ve been wanting to ask you…”
Suddenly, the entirety of the backstage was silent. Benny and Jason had stopped gabbing, and Ollie and Beth were clustered by the dressing room doors as if they wanted to moonwalk backward into them. Lee had been on the phone almost the entire time we’d been backstage, but then he, too, had stopped what he was doing and stood there staring at us. I felt pinpricks of goosebumps on my arms, and closed them over my chest nervously.
I stared at Phillip, waiting, watching as he pulled a small, shining object from his pocket. He slipped it onto the end of his finger and held it out toward me, the pink in his cheeks deepening into a flush, another rarity. I realized that him wearing a suit and tie to the show was about more than just aesthetics. He’d dressed up for me.
“I had a million ways I planned to do this, a million different plans…” Phillip swallowed. “I thought about doing it onstage in front of everyone, but that didn’t seem right…I thought about going to Driftwood Beach, but that place holds so many others’ memories, and I wanted something that was just ours …I thought about waiting until we got back to your place, or maybe to the Wolfden, but…again, everybody else’s memories, and besides, it’ll be a while before we get there, and I can’t wait.” Phillip swallowed again and took a step forward, taking my hand in his. His skin was warm to the touch, except for the cool bit of metal that rubbed against my fingers as he turned my hand over, palm up, as though he were positioning me for prayer.
“Stormy,” Phillip Deville said, his eyes huge and luminous. His hand trembled a little in mine. “Will you marry me?”
Jason’s gasp reverberated through the backstage area, and though I was completely silent, standing there gaping at Phillip, the sounds inside my head conveyed a similar shock. For a moment, I just stood there, unsteady on my feet, staring. His hand was a warm weight in mine, the coolness of the bauble on his finger a punctuation mark on the question he’d just asked me. I knew it was a ring, but I was afraid to look down, afraid I’d realize I was hallucinating, that this wasn’t really happening…afraid to look anywhere but in Phillip’s eyes.
I found my voice, and, clearing my throat, took a deep breath. “I…I…of course I will, Phillip.”
A cheer erupted behind me, but I scarcely heard it. I was too busy rushing into Phillip’s outstretched arms, burying my face in his neck, the happy tears already beginning to course down my face. After a moment, Phillip pulled back and gave me a soft, lingering kiss on the lips, this one full of tenderness and reverence but with an undercurrent of the passionate moment we’d shared before. We needed to be alone. Right now.
“Do you like it?” he asked in a soft, sensual voice, and I realized he meant the ring. I hadn’t even looked at it!
I took his hand and looked at the ring on his index finger, just above the knuckle. It was silver with a thin band, and had a small, bright turquoise stone in the middle. It was no frills—no diamonds or gems—but absolutely exquisite, and I could tell it was very, very old.
“Yes,” he said, though I hadn’t spoken. His eyes were shining. “It was my sister Claire’s.” I looked up at him, my own eyes bright. I’d never heard him mention his sister before outside of interviews. “I recently found out that she uh, that she’d passed away…” He cleared his throat, his voice husky. “And Jason was kind enough to give me a few of her things, things that had been left in the house. This was among them.” He wiped an eye. “When I was a kid, I loved that ring. I’d always steal it from her jewelry box and wear it on my pinky when I was playing rock star. I think in my childhood brain it reminded me of something Axl Rose or Sebastian Bach would wear. Anyway, I hope you like it. If you don’t, we’ll get you something else—whatever you want.” He stared down at me, his eyes glistening. “I just want you to be happy. I just want you to be my wife.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice a whisper. We’d both been through this before, and Phillip had already taken on so much in his newfound life. Add to that a brand-new marriage…Phillip was a brave one.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he answered seriously, taking the ring from his finger and slipping it onto mine. “All the future holds, whether it involves magic, or music, or family, or all of the above, I want to spend it with you. I want you by my side for all of it, forever, better or worse, till death do us part.”
“And if death does us part, I’ll just bring you back,” I said, laughing through my tears. “Again.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Phillip said, leaning down to kiss me again. “The old ball and chain, tied to my ankle for infinity.”
I chuckled, bit his lip, and then leaned to whisper in his ear. “If I don’t get you alone in the next thirty seconds, I’m changing my mind.”
“As you wish, my betrothed,” he whispered back, and scooped me up into his arms, carrying me out the backstage exit toward his dressing room without so much as a word to anyone.